


Fading Away

by VanessaWolfie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Fluff, M/M, Smoochfest 2011, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-26
Updated: 2011-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:19:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanessaWolfie/pseuds/VanessaWolfie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco’s back at Hogwarts for eighth year. He knew it wouldn’t be heaven, but he never thought it would be hell. Will anyone save him from it? Does anybody care? What will it take?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fading Away

**Author's Note:**

> I never planned on signing up for this fest. I was just helping a friend pick out a prompt or three from the +/- 200 prompts that were available and I found this one. It spoke to me, and I was like, wow, I can write something really angsty and deep with this one. I couldn’t not write it so I decided, I’d sign-up. No biggie, right? Well, about 17k later, I think it’s become “a biggie”.  
> I want to thank bleedforyou1, rinny, wendy and curiouslyfic for beta-ing the crap out of this and helping me go through this.

Draco wasn’t sure that returning to Hogwarts after the War was a smart thing to do. Actually, he was pretty sure that returning to Hogwarts for eighth year was really a _stupid_ thing to do. He knew that the other houses were not going to welcome him into the community that they were steadily rebuilding, but he had hoped to at least get a point for trying. Although, knowing this wouldn’t make it any easier to adapt to the conditions in the school. With his parents pardoned, but on restrictions, Draco didn’t have anything better to do with his life than educate himself further.

 

He needed to have a full education if he was ever going to get a job. Wizards and witches didn’t really hide their opinions of Draco’s family after the War. They tended to blame them for most of the Death Eaters’ work overall as they had been such recognized supporters through the years. Draco knew that his life would be much better if the late Headmaster was still alive. Dumbledore had seen that Draco didn’t want to support the Dark Lord. He had only been caught in the cross-fire of Voldemort and his father, naive enough and desperate for his family’s approval to take pride in being given an important assignment. However he had grown up a lot since then. Dumbledore’s death, the final battle and his friend’s death had seen to that. Draco honestly didn’t think he’d find anyone who could understand that as much as Dumbledore had. Still, he wanted to try. He _had_ to try. After all, it wasn’t as if things could get any worse.

 

*******

 

The train ride to Hogwarts was hell to, say the least. Draco had no place to stay as no one wanted to sit with an ex-Death Eater. Being judged was nothing new for him, but he wasn’t sure he could handle every single one of his schoolmates judging him. Draco hadn’t even done anything in the War. Okay, so he’d almost killed Dumbledore, but he hadn’t wanted to and, in the end, he hadn’t. Draco would have thought people would’ve considered that. But no, they just judged him by his family, his connections and by the fact that the Dark Lord had stayed in his house. Being on the train made Draco feel like a ball of lead was sitting in his stomach.

 

Draco hid his trunk, then spent the ride walking around, hiding in the bathrooms and hall ways. Every time any of the upper years students passed by and recognized him, he got hexed. Not even just hexes; some seemed to forget about their wands and just decided to _hit_ him with their bare hands like barbarians.

 

Draco didn’t fight back, because he really couldn’t afford any more trouble. Life at Hogwarts was going to be hard enough; he did not need to have a reputation, or a worse one, that is. Instead he pretended he didn’t hear the insults. Holding back the snide come-backs and hexes was hard, but Draco made himself do it. He had learned much in the last few years, with the Dark Lord living in his house and Death Eaters waltzing through day and night. Some of the more hurtful taunts had him gritting his teeth, and even clenching his fists to keep himself from lashing out. Draco almost felt ashamed of himself for his reactions; he had been taught better than to resort to violence. He would not sink to their level this time. He would not be the one to spread pain now.

 

As the train neared Hogwarts, Draco tried to hide in the bathroom. The last thing he wanted was to garner more attention from people who felt the need to avenge themselves or their family by taking potshots at a Malfoy. His face was already marred by a broken nose and a split lip, plus the couple of hexes that had been thrown his way. He had been smart enough to quietly whisper Protego Charm each time, but a few still stung and some got through his shields.

 

Although his family values had mostly flown out the window somewhere in the War, Draco still had dignity. While he wasn’t going to put himself on a pedestal like he had done in his younger years, he had pride and he cared about his looks. Being wounded was not a look that suited Draco. Not only did being hurt damage his aristocratic good looks, the swelling also made it nearly impossible for him to maintain his usual stealth and, despite his best effort, his attempt to make it to the loo undetected didn’t work out. As he hurried down the corridor, Draco accidentally ran into a group of students in his year.

 

“Oi, watch where you’re going. Wait, Malfoy? Is that you?”

 

Draco looked up at the sound of the familiar voice. His life had just gotten infinitely worse. The group of students consisted of Ronald Weasley, Dean Thomas, Anthony Goldstein; the Ravenclaw prefect that had tried to take house points from him once, Micheal Corner; the fool, Longbottom and that Irish Gryffindor, Finnigan, or something.

 

“I was trying to get to the restrooms. Didn’t mean to bump into you.” Draco said, trying to avoid trouble. He didn’t want more bruises, and Weasley wasn’t going to be gentle if he got a chance to fight Draco.

 

“What’s the matter, Malfoy? Not liking your odds?” Weasley started, cocking a smirk and acting

tough in front of his friends.

 

As much as Draco wanted to take his wand out and hex him into next year, he was smarter than that. He knew that fighting with Weasley now would only end badly. The other boys would back him up and then he would tell some teachers that would only believe the Gryffindors. So, Draco counted to ten calmly in his head, before looking at Weasley again.

 

“As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I need to get going.” Draco tried to walk past the group, but they had made a line, effectively blocking his path.

 

“I just want to know _why_ you’ve decided to ruin my school year with your presence? I mean, really, it’s not like anyone _wants_ you here.”  Weasley wasn’t just going to let him go, it seemed.

 

“Weasley, I don’t need your bloody speech right now. I have as much right as all of you to come here to learn. I won’t be in your way. If you leave me alone, I’ll leave you alone.”

 

For the third time, Draco tried to walk past the group, but as he did, one of them - the Ravenclaw fool, Corner - pushed him back. It caught him by surprise and made him fall flat on his arse. Draco had to force himself to count every reason he had not to fight back. Falling on his back in front of all these Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs did not serve to keep his dignity. Draco felt his blood boil, but managed to keep his face from reddening. It would take a lot more than tripping over to make Draco Malfoy blush.

 

“Where do you think you’re going, Death Eater?” Corner asked, smirking.

 

Draco sighed, realizing that he would have to try some other technique. Doing nothing wasn’t really going to work this time.

 

“See, Malfoy.” Weasley paused, staring down at Draco with obvious disdain. “If you’re here, in my classes and in the Great Hall, that’ll be enough to completely ruin my year. I thought we won the War to get rid of scum like you.”

 

Draco gracefully--or as gracefully as possible, given how hurt he was--attempted to stand up. “And here I thought you won the War to destroy V-Voldemort and stop injustice. But I guess we were both wrong, and we’ll leave it at that.”

 

Rather than ending the argument, Draco’s words only seemed to inflame them more.

 

“You think you’re so smart, but you coming back was a stupid choice. We’re going to make your year hell.” With that, they all walked away, pushing him down again. The last one to leave stepped on him, both his leg and his fingers. _The bloody fools!_

 

Finally, Draco was able to limp to the bathroom, where he cleaned his small cuts and scratches

and hid out until the train was empty.

 

It seemed that he was in for a treat this year. His hopes of blending in had been squashed by Weasley’s words. Draco could only hope that being the only eighth year Slytherin would make the teachers see that he wanted to change. Although the students would no doubt hassle him, maybe the teachers would protect him.

 

*******

 

As Draco took his seat he wondered why the hell he was even there. People quickly scanned the Slytherin table, which only had about twenty or so people, and glared at Draco when they spotted him. Being the only 8th year Slytherin made him stand out, and people just weren’t going to let him learn in peace. There were few from seventh year, and sixth year had eight people. It seemed the Slytherin house was cursed. At least for the next few years, at any rate. People weren’t likely to stop linking Slytherin directly to Voldemort. The fact that the Dark Lord was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself didn’t help and most of the Death Eaters had been Slytherins, as well.

 

The Gryffindor table was not as full as it had been either, though for a different reason. Some of the students had been killed in the War while many had been offered jobs or internships after the War, and had chosen not to return to Hogwarts. The same applied to both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, but there weren’t as many missing students.

 

When Draco started thinking about the people lost in the War, he always seemed to fall into the trap of blaming himself for _everything._ He knew that it wasn’t all his fault, but he had been in the centre of it all and he should have done _something, damn it!_ Living within these walls would be more difficult then Draco had foreseen. Maybe he should just go back home, live off Mother and Father and then get a job at some _Muggle_ place.

 

_‘No! This attitude is what got all those people killed.’_

Draco knew that attitude had been common in the War. Both Death Eaters and other supporters of Voldemort didn’t do anything to stop all the injustice because they were scared. They didn’t want to have to face the people on the other side of the War and beg for forgiveness. Draco couldn’t do the same now, not when he’d promised himself to change. Their disapproval wasn’t going to fade, but if Draco went home now he’d just be worse off.

 

Looking up at the teachers table, Draco felt his hopes of getting some support there wilt. McGonagall, although she’d been the one to accept his request to return, seemed unable to choose between ignoring him and glaring at him. Draco felt a bit ill at that, because normally McGonagall was very fair. Hagrid and Flitwick didn’t look his way at all, but Professor Sprout seemed to have forgotten her manners and was sending him an icy cold stare that could only be interpreted as, “Get the hell out of my school!”

 

Draco started as McGonagall tapped her spoon against her cup, making all the students look to the teacher’s table.

 

“I’m so happy to see all of you here after this ordeal we’ve been put through. A lot of good people have been lost, but we still live on and carry on their ambitions and dreams. I hope this school year will be a fresh start for all of us. We owe the re-build of Hogwarts to a lot of smart and talented people. Former students, teachers, friends and allies came together and made the school an ever better place to stay. I think I’m going to love this Hogwarts just as much as I loved it before. I know that a couple of the older students sitting with us here today helped, and I want to thank you all.”

 

Draco was glad looks didn’t kill, because although McGonagall talked about a fresh start and how happy she was to see everyone, she didn’t seem to mind that Professor Sprout took every opportunity to glare at Draco like he was personally spitting in her soup. Draco just wanted to leave the Great Hall and go to sleep. It had been a long day and he wanted to get away from everyone that seemed to hate him.

 

Draco ate what he could, which wasn’t anywhere near a healthy amount, before pushing his plate slightly away and letting his mind drift. Waiting for everybody to finish was excruciating. The second he could, Draco got the password from a reluctant prefect and made a dash for the dorms. He went up the stairs to his room, which was now empty except for his luggage and the preset furniture. He’d be staying in the room for the whole year, alone. The thought both comforted him and deepened his depression.

 

Draco got dressed for sleep and did his nightly routine before slumping on the bed, exhausted from the hate and hexes that had been thrown at him during the train ride. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Draco fought hard against the lonely feeling that was threatening to squeeze through his defences. Tomorrow he would have to get up a bit early and clean and heal his wounds properly.

 

*******

 

If Draco had held any hopes of his first day of classes being any better than the previous day, he was _so_ wrong. Being the only eighth year Slytherin to come back seemed to make everybody even more focused on him as the cause of the whole War. The teachers either ignored him or encouraged the teasing and taunting, and even overlooked a couple of hexes. All his fellow students seemed to agree with Weasley.

 

Something told him that his decision to come back would prove a waste. He had been walking down the stairs, on his way to Charms when a group of rambunctious second years had crashed into him from the side. Draco glared in surprise, knowing that if this had happened two years ago, the whole group would have apologised profusely for knocking into a Slytherin. Instead, this year, three or four of the bigger boys all laughed and pointed at him, causing him to flush and raise an eyebrow before walking away. His pride shook at the realization that, most likely, no one was going to apologise to him for anything this year.

 

“Malfoy is so stupid! Why is he even here?! No one wants him!”

 

Draco’s hands felt clammy and his head whirled as he turned the corner, walking away from the taunts. His heartbeat quickened at the thought of _twelve-year-olds_ getting to him, but it was almost worse than the older students, in a way. The innocence and peace exuded by younger students had been washed away and Draco didn’t know what else there was to look forward to.

 

The worst part was that a few years ago he had wanted to tutor the younger kids in Potions and Quidditch. He had _liked_ kids before this--but now that they’d been so nasty, he couldn’t even think about it.

 

_Nonsense_ , Draco thought gloomily as he looked down at his Charms textbook, sitting at the very edge of the classroom. _Everyone is just reacting to you as negatively as they’ve seen other people react. Everything should die down...in a few months. Eventually._

 

The fact that people were pushing Draco around like a rag doll did not help his aches. After his first class, his head felt as if it had been run over by the Hogwarts express repeatedly. His body felt even worse, if that was possible. Overall, Draco felt like shit. The Hufflepuffs, as well as the Slytherins, had left him alone the whole time, and Flitwick didn’t talk to him. He did what they were told to do and he did it perfectly, but Flitwick didn’t even look at his work.

 

Draco had a free period after Charms, so he decided to go see if Madam Pomfrey hated him as well. Draco was feeling even worse now and didn’t have the energy to heal himself.

 

Draco was relieved that the corridors were empty as he made his way to the hospital wing. He knocked on Pomfrey’s office slightly hunched over.

 

“Oh Merlin, what’s wrong with you?” Pomfrey ushered him to the nearest bed and then helped Draco get onto the mattress. She did a quick spell to check for internal injuries.

 

“You’re not in good shape, Mr. Malfoy. What happened to you?”

 

Draco had dreaded that question. “It seems like my fellow students don’t like me very much. They had a creative way of welcoming me on the train yesterday.”

 

“Merlin, I knew that there would be trouble with the Slytherins returning, but I didn’t think this would be the result. I’m going to have to talk to McGonagall about this. Or Slughorn.”

 

Draco didn’t say anything because he suspected the woman needed to believe that that would help. He, on the other hand, knew that McGonagall would do nothing about it, and McGonagall probably liked Slughorn as much as she liked Draco right now.

 

Pomfrey was like an angel. She healed every scratch and slash that she could find on Draco’s body. Draco felt his headache lessen, as that meant less to worry about. While she worked, she often looked at him with pity that made Draco’s inside twist. All he felt like doing was running away, which only made him feel even more like a weakling, but he bore it as best he could; he needed to be healed. Although Draco himself had often fantasied about becoming a Healer, he didn’t see that happening now.

 

Madam Pomfrey gave him Skelo-Gro after reassuring him that she would talk to his professors for later classes and that he should just go to sleep.

 

*******

 

When Draco woke, he felt well-rested and his body felt almost all healed. Draco stretched and his muscles protested weakly. They didn’t hurt as much as they had before and he suspected the tension and stiffness was more from sleeping than anything else.

 

“Oh, Mr. Malfoy, you’re awake at last. I’ve talked to your professors and I think it’d be best if you just go up to your dorm and rest for the night.” Pomfrey said as she walked to the side of his bed. “I healed your bones and all your cuts so you should be good as new, now. Know that you can always come here, no matter how everybody else treats you. I’m only here to heal people, not judge them.”

 

Draco went up to his room, trying not to rush since his head was still slightly aching. He wondered how exactly his life had come to his. So much pain and loneliness, fear and desperation. He had never felt so alone in his life. He missed the sounds of Crabbe and Goyle’s food consumption, Blaise’s snarky remarks and Pansy’s laughter in the background of his life.

 

“Fuck this,” Draco growled, frustrated with his own sadness. He sat down at his desk and pulled out a piece of parchment and his favourite quill. Writing had always made him feel better, but he had no one to write to. Unless...well, he supposed he could always write to Pansy even if he wouldn’t actually send the letters.

 

Snorting at himself--when did he get to be so emotional?--he began to write.

 

_Dear Pansy,_

_I don’t even know why I’m writing this; I guess I just need to vent. You’ve been my friend for so long, and always there when I needed you before, that I’m not used to being so filled with things to say. I don’t have_ anyone _to talk to now. I don’t know how I’m going to get through this year._

_Why did you have to go and find a job right after the War? A job that needed you to cut off your friends? I should hate you for leaving me like that, but I can’t and you know why._

_I know why I came back, but I honestly didn’t expect them to be_ this _horrid. It’s not like these people even_ know _me.  Not like you do. They’re just grieving and need someone to blame. They should blame Voldemort, but they seem to need someone alive. Why doesn’t anyone think of the fact that I’m grieving as well. This War has excluded my family from society, killed my friends and made me cry more than once. I don’t believe I told you, but that time when Potter hexed me with that_ Sectumsempra _shit? And almost killed me? I was crying when he found me. Yes, your best friend was crying, and Harry Potter saw it._

_But the train ride was awful. People seemed to just lose themselves in anger when they saw me. Then when I was going to hide in a bathroom while everyone else got off the train, I ran into a bunch of eighth year boys; Weasley and some of his friends. They talked some shit and then walked all over me--literally! Can you believe it?_

_I needed to go to the hospital wing after my first class today. Madam Pomfrey said I had internal injuries or something like that. She healed me of course, and then sent me back to my dorm, which is empty and leaves me feeling lonely. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this_ alone, _Pansy. I miss you and Blaise, I miss Crabbe and Goyle. I’m guessing this won’t be the only note I’ll write to you because I’m sure I’ll just get more and more frustrated with each day._

_Your friend,_

_Draco_

When Draco had finished writing the letter, he read it over, thinking about how filled with self-pity it was, but he still put it in his night stand. Draco could say that he was disgusted with himself for showing such self-pity, but the truth was, if Pansy was here, Draco would’ve told her all about it, in more detail. _And probably sounded more whiney,_ Draco thought to himself, almost laughing.

 

After putting the note aside along with his ink and quill, Draco got dressed for bed. He lay in his four-poster for hours, thinking, remembering the fun he’d had in his first and second years; talking with his friends and so carelessly flaunting his father’s relations and wealth. It was strange to think that only three years ago, he laid here sulking about something his father wouldn’t buy for him at the time. Now, his life had crumbled to the ground. The things he’d once valued above all else seemed petty and ridiculous, but it was over now and he was going to move on from it. Although it seemed the people at this school wouldn’t accept it, he had changed.

_\--------------_

 

“Hey Ron? There’s Malfoy. I would’ve guessed he’d run straight home after the Welcoming Fest. He certainly wasn’t welcome.”

 

Draco shuddered at the pure hate that leaked out of every word that Finnigan said. They were on their way to the first class of the day, a Charms lesson with Gryffindor and Slytherin seventh and eighth years.

 

“Yeah, I thought he had; didn’t see him yesterday, thank Merlin,” Weasley said in return. Neither man had realized that Draco could hear them, and it wasn’t like Draco was going to say anything. He didn’t want to start something after just being healed.

 

“Hi, Ron, Seamus. What are you guys talking about?” 

 

Draco looked up at the familiar voice. Before him stood Harry Potter, the Saviour of the wizarding world. Draco didn’t even want to hear what he had to say about him. He sped up his pace and walked past the three other men and into the classroom. The class itself wasn’t too bad if Draco just tuned out the insults and taunts that were being thrown his way.

 

*******

Draco felt as though Hogwarts had truly changed, and perhaps not for the better. He had really thought that all these people were good people at heart. All these Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were _supposed_ to be nice, loving and forgiving, but they weren’t. Thinking back on his many run-ins with his fellow students, Draco laughed bitterly. No, they certainly weren’t.

 

Draco just felt like crawling into a shell and hiding from everyone. After his Charms double period, he had had a Potions class with Hufflepuffs. That wasn’t much better. They were said to be the nicest house, but Draco knew better. They’d been just as cruel as the Gryffindors, and one had even thrown a potion at him. Luckily they weren’t making a deadly potion, but it still made him itch like Merlin’s balls.

 

Sitting in his dorm room, Draco took out his quill and some parchment and started writing another letter to Pansy. 

 

_Dear Pansy,_

_Another day has passed.  I’m starting to think that the houses are wrongly categorized.  Hufflepuffs are evil bastards and Gryffindors are taunting idiots._

_I saw the mighty Saviour today. Rushed past him, though; didn’t want to hear what the hero had to say about me. I get enough from Weasley and the others.  I just want to disappear, really. I want to finish my education, so I won’t leave Hogwarts, but I just kind of wish I was invisible. I don’t even know if that makes sense.  I just know that this year is going to be hard. I miss you. I miss your attitude. You’d just kick all of their arses, wouldn’t you Pansy?_

_Well, I guess I can face a few days._

_Your friend,_

_Draco._

*******

After only a week Draco needed a system. He literally lost his appetite if the Great Hall was full of people. His fellow students - although ‘fellow’ wasn’t really the word - pepped each other up to taunt him.

 

A group of guys his age decided that their new game was throwing a Full Body-Bind Spell at him. Draco felt his stomach twist and he almost threw up at the humiliation. People turned at the laughter of his attackers, and soon the whole school was laughing. Draco felt his anger rise up. He wanted nothing more than to fire every dark spell he knew around the Great Hall, but in the back of his head Draco knew that they would win.

 

It just hurt so much to be the centre of bad attention like this. The teachers just over-looked the whole thing and Professor Sprout even smirked a bit. After about five minutes the boy released the spell and Draco quickly cast a protection spell around himself. He then finished his meal hurriedly, all the while repeating “they’ll win if I explode,” like a mantra in his head.

 

_Dear Pansy,_

_I wish I could send these letters. I’m dying here. If only one person would take my side, I think I’d get through this. But the whole school hates me. Not even McGonagall did anything to stop those bloody gits. They Body-Bound me while I was eating! I’ve never known such a feeling; to be humiliated, helpless, vulnerable and so angry all at the same time._

_I’m sick of this. I can’t do protection charms against every hex there is, all the time. They’ll just keep going at it until I leave Hogwarts... or die. I just want to disappear!_

Draco started, realizing that he’d shouted that last part. Signing the letter as always, Draco looked at his fingers. They were covered in ink. Looking at his quill, Draco was shocked to see that it was almost broken. He seemed to have written quite angrily; pushing the quill to the parchment. Sighing, Draco went to wash his hands and found them so pale underneath the ink that it was almost as if they were transparent. He chose not to think about it any more, just wanting to get this day over with.

 

*******

 

Draco woke up with a bad feeling. It was early; he had decided to start going to breakfast before everybody else. His stomach was in knots like he _knew_ something bad was going to happen.

 

The Great Hall was empty, which brightened Draco’s day considerably. He ate in peace, enjoying the fact that he actually had the appetite to gratify his hunger properly. No one was here to Body-Bind him, no one to taunt him, no one to hit him. It was perfect. After Draco finished eating, he gathered his things and decided to go to the library to study before classes started.

 

As Draco walked up the stairs, the first group of students were making their way down to the Great Hall. Draco found himself actively wishing that he’d disappear for just as long as it took them to pass him. Right before they reached him, Draco felt some strange magic course over him. The magic was, unknown, yet in the same instance, familiar in a way that intrigued Draco.

 

He had been so lost in thought that he hardly noticed the group of students passing him without so much as a glance. Draco was surprised by it, but that strange magic was all his mind seemed to focus on. It was another group of students passed him without a sneer that Draco got worried. He looked down and literally saw straight through himself. He was nearly invisible, as if he had faded into the castle wall.

 

Draco was now in a hurry to get to the library. When he got there he saw the librarian, Madam Pince, and for the first time ever felt relieved by her stare; it meant she could see him. He wasn’t invisible. Not yet, at least.

 

“Madam Pince?” Draco almost yelled. “Do you know where I could research... the ability to fade away?”

 

Both Madam Pince and Granger, who seemed to have done the opposite to Draco and gone to the library before breakfast, shushed him.

 

“This is a library, Mr. Malfoy. That means that you keep quiet and read books.”

 

“Yes, I know that, Madam Pince. I just need your help to find a book about invisibility,” Draco said, sounding desperate even to himself. He could already see that the closed-off woman wasn’t going to help him.

 

“Malfoy? What are you playing at here? I know you don’t get it, but some people actually want to study outside of the classroom. So keep your ridiculous questions outside of the library.” Granger said, butting in as always.

 

“Oh, come off it, Granger, we both know that you’re a know-it-all, you don’t need to shove it down my throat.” Draco snapped back without thinking. He regretted it immediately as both women glared at him with looks that could kill. At times like this, Draco really wished he couldn’t be heard.

 

Draco could feel the strange magic again as both Granger and Madam Pince strode away. He opened his mouth to call the librarian back, to make her help him, but no sound escaped him. Now, not only was he fading, but his voice was unheard too. Just like that, Draco felt it all come down. All the defences and walls he had built since he was a child and more so now, came crashing down and Draco felt lost.

 

*******

_Dear Pansy,_

_I’m almost too broken to write this down. I’m fading. I can feel that it’s some sort of magic. It’s really powerful and I think I know it. I just can’t place it, and really, I don’t see the point in trying to, anyway.  Even if I could stop it from making me fade, how would that be better? Weasley was right, no one wants me here._

_Your friend at least,_

_Draco._

***********------**********

 

After almost three months at Hogwarts, Harry was starting to feel at home again. It was still weird, to be back, but at least he didn’t wake up with his wand ready every morning. Once, he had almost hexed Seamus’s hand off just because he woke Harry up while sneaking out to snog some girl.

 

Harry was glad the War was over now, but he had to admit he was kind of bored. He didn’t have anyone to protect, no obligations and Harry just didn’t know how to act. He liked challenges, adventures and having some project to work on. It was weird, but Harry also knew he should be happy about this. He should be focusing on schoolwork or something ...normal. He was finally a normal teenager, without the burdens of the wizarding world, but still... he just didn’t _feel_ normal.

 

Ron and Hermione were now a happy couple. Well, most of the time. She didn’t yell any less at him, but most of the time it ending in a make-out session instead of a huge fight. Harry laughed at it sometimes but most of the time it reminded him of Ron’s Lavender phase and left him with an urge to throw up. Harry felt a bit lonely when Ron and Hermione were off doing Merlin knows what, and Ginny was with his new boyfriend, some Gryffindor in her year. They were happy together and the boy was a nice bloke, how knew exactly how to handle angry Ginny. It was astonishing. Harry had come out to his friend after the War, allowing Ginny to stop wondering about their relationship, and to realise that they saw each other as just good friends.

 

Today Harry made his way to the Great Hall alone, finding a sleepy Ron and a chipper Hermione at the Gryffindor table.

 

“Hey Harry. I was just telling Ron that he needs to work on his homework to get good NEWTS; he needs good NEWTS if he’s going to be an Auror,” Hermione said, drowning Harry in her constant flow of words.

 

“Yes, Hermione, he’ll need good NEWTS, but it isn’t even Christmas yet. I think he has some time to get his studying under control,” Harry said, trying to calm Hermione down before his two best friends started bickering again.

 

“Hermione, it’s not like we have competition from the Slytherins. There are what … four in seventh year now? Plus Malfoy, but I haven’t even seen him for a while. Good riddance though; the git shouldn’t have come back.” Ron said.

 

Harry turned to his friend and thought that sometimes, Ron could be _really_ ignorant.

 

He sat down, looking across the Great Hall to the Slytherin table. As he scanned it, he sighed quietly, realizing again how few Slytherins attended Hogwarts now. Harry knew that it didn’t bother other people, because they just seemed to hate the whole house, but Harry knew better. You couldn’t judge these kids just because they were sorted into the same house as Voldemort. Not all Gryffindors were like Dumbledore, and not even Dumbledore had been entirely brave all the time.

 

“Well, maybe he decided to go home?” Hermione said. Snickering, she added, “Or maybe he just found that book on invisibility. Has your invisibility cloak been stolen by any chance, Harry?” Hermione started laughing hard at her private joke.

 

“What do you mean, Hermione? What does my invisibility cloak have to do with Malfoy?” Harry asked, perplexed.

 

“Sometimes in the first weeks of school, I was in the library before breakfast and Malfoy came in, like something was after him, asking about books on invisibility and the ability to fade away. I didn’t think anything of it as it was clearly just some sort of prank. To be honest, it got me a bit angry at the time, but I forgot about it until Ron mentioned him just now,” Hermione explained when she had recovered from her laughing fit.

 

“Really, Hermione? You fight for house-elves that don’t want your help, but you refuse to help a fellow student?” Harry asked baffled by Hermione’s behaviour.

 

Hermione and Ron looked at him like he was Fluffy, the three-headed dog they’d met in their first year.

 

“Harry, are you sticking up for Malfoy?” Ron asked.

 

“Well, we defeated Voldemort to try and get rid of this bigotry and prejudice. It annoys me that the people who say they’re on the good side judge people for mistakes that they didn’t even make,” Harry replied. Again, his best friends looked astonished.

 

“Harry, we aren’t exactly prejudiced against Malfoy. He’s proven again and again how bad he really is. Why worry about him now?” Hermione said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

 

“I’m not saying he hasn’t done horrible things, Hermione, he’s a git, I know that. He also didn’t kill Dumbledore, he didn’t admit to my identity in the Manor, plus he hasn’t done anything to anyone this year. I just don’t see why everybody treats him like he’s Voldemort himself,” Harry said.

 

Hermione actually looked a bit ashamed at this.

 

Harry didn’t actually know why he was defending Malfoy, but he knew he was sick of all this. People shouldn’t be treated any differently because of their families or their past, and by the looks of it, Malfoy was at least trying now. The git wasn’t walking around with arrogance in his step. As far as Harry had seen, Malfoy seemed to avoid attention these days. Harry knew that he himself hated being judged single-handedly by his past; whether it be his relationship with Ginny, his parents, his work in the War or by being raised by Muggles. It was horrible in every way, and Harry didn’t wish that upon anyone. Even if it was his former enemy.

 

“I’m sorry Harry, I guess I wasn’t really thinking about it like that. I just don’t see any reason why we should be alarmed. He was getting some really bad hexes and stuff during meal times at the beginning of the year, so maybe he just started avoiding the busy times in the Great Hall. I just thought it was a funny joke, that’s all.”

 

Harry didn’t think that was all there was to it, but he didn’t feel like arguing with Hermione. However, he was a bit curious as to why Malfoy wasn’t showing up for classes, either. Malfoy didn’t seem as the type to run and hide. Harry imagined that the git had grown up a bit after living in the same house as the Dark Lord and being on the side that got so many people killed.

 

Harry decided that just out of common concern, he was going to ask Headmistress McGonagall if Malfoy had dropped out of Hogwarts. There may be more to the bullying that Hermione was referring to, and Harry wouldn’t allow anyone to be hurt in the castle again.

 

*******

 

“Headmistress?” Harry asked, knocking on the door.

 

McGonagall opened the door with a flick of wand, smiling at Harry as she gestured for him to step inside.

 

“Mr. Potter, what brings you up here today?” she asked.

 

“I was just wondering if Draco Malfoy was still a student at Hogwarts?” Harry replied.

 

McGonagall raised her eyebrows, clearly trying to figure out the reason behind his question.

 

“I admit that I overlooked a few of the taunts and hexes that were thrown his way, but I don’t take kindly to such blatant disrespect, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall answered, sounding cold and strict, surprising Harry.

 

“I-- I don’t really know what you’re talking about, Headmistress. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disrespect you. I was just wondering if he was still attending the school as I haven’t seen him around lately. I was just curious.” Harry quickly scrambled an answer, panicking at McGonagall’s cold response.

 

“Oh, sorry, Harry. The answer to your question is yes; Mr Malfoy is still a student here. I imagine he’s just been keeping a low profile for the last few months,” McGonagall said, saving herself from further misunderstanding.

 

“Ah, well, thank you, Headmistress. I’ll just go back to my studying now.”

 

*******

 

Harry started walking back to the Gryffindor common room, but decided he didn’t want to see Ron and Hermione yet. He’d left them after class, mumbling something about McGonagall and Malfoy. Harry was sure they were going to say that he was getting just as obsessed with Malfoy now as he had been in sixth year.

 

Instead, he walked to the library. _Malfoy must be somewhere. If he’s still a student he must turn in homework or else one of the teachers would have said something._ Harry thought on the way there.

 

Stepping inside of the library, Harry looked around. To his surprise he saw Malfoy sitting at a lone table in one of the corners. He looked around to see if anyone else had noticed Malfoy, but it seemed as if he was invisible to everyone else.

 

As Harry looked back, now thinking more about what Hermione had said about her conversation with Malfoy, Harry found that he wasn’t at the table anymore. His books were, but in a rather neat fashion, which made it less noticeable. As Harry walked closer, wondering if Malfoy had just disappeared, Malfoy flickered back right in front of his eyes. It freaked Harry out, but not enough to make him voice that surprise. He had been in the wizarding world for long enough not to be startled _that_ easily.

 

Malfoy was simply sitting there; he hadn’t even noticed Harry yet. He didn’t seem to have moved and it was almost as if Harry’s eyes had just not registered the figure sitting there. It was bizarre, but Harry’s mind was caught up on the fact that literally _no one_ else saw Malfoy. Otherwise they would have wondered why Harry was walking towards him.

 

Harry cleared his throat as he came to a stop in front of the table and looked down at Malfoy.

 

“Potter?” Malfoy said. He sounded surprised, and Harry was sure he heard a small trace of fear in his voice as well. 

 

“I...er,” Harry stuttered for a second because Malfoy’s voice was so soft, and he could barely hear him. “I haven’t seen you around, lately. I was just making sure everything was...okay?” It came out as more of a question, but Harry didn’t know what else to say. _Why_ am _I here?_ Harry asked himself.

 

“You haven’t seen me around? Yeah, _no_ one has seen me around lately,” Malfoy said, almost regaining his snarky attitude again.

 

“What’s going on?” Harry asked, blinking as he saw Malfoy’s figure flicker again, as if he weren’t real, but some sort of visual _representation_ of a human _._ “Why are you--erm, flickering?”

“Why should I tell you? Why are you even talking to me, Potter? How can you see me when no one else does?” Malfoy asked, sounding angry and even a bit desperate.

 

“No one sees you?” Harry repeated. “What do you mean no one sees you? You’re not invisible as far as I can tell...”

 

“No, obviously _you_ can see me, but for the past couple of months, since after the first week of school, no one else has been able to see me. It’s like I’ve faded into the walls; into the castle.” Malfoy said. Now he didn’t just sound desperate, it was clear that he was. “But you still haven’t answered my question Potter, why do you care?”

 

_That is the question, isn’t it?_ Harry thought.

 

“Well, er, I don’t really know.... I guess I just don’t want anymore injustice. When I noticed that no one had seen you in the last months, I wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt,” Harry said, awkward that his small obsession with Malfoy was being laid out.

 

“You don’t want anymore injustice? Where do you live? In rainbow land?” Malfoy asked, incredulous.

 

Harry was getting a bit annoyed at Malfoy, but by the sound of it, the other man had a reason to feel so desperate and snappy. He noticed that every time he got Malfoy to tell him more about what had happened, he closed off.

 

“I know you don’t like me, Malfoy, and to be honest, I don’t like you very much, either. But I think we’ve outgrown hating each other, right?” Harry asked, trying to get to the bottom of things. “I think that I might be able to help you figure this thing out, or at least help you communicate with someone that can. But you have to tell me what happened.” Now Harry was the one sounding desperate.

 

Malfoy seemed to think about this for a while. He stared off into space, clearly debating whether or not he should talk to Harry. Finally, just as Harry was about ready to leave, he looked up, defeated.

 

“Fine,” Draco huffed. “It all started just a few days after school started. People were really going all out to try and scare me into leaving the school,” he started, making Harry curse himself for allowing all that. “Actually, could we talk somewhere else? People might wonder why you’re talking to thin air,” Malfoy added.

 

Harry was intrigued now; he wanted to know what had made Malfoy invisible. Harry also wanted to know why he could see Malfoy when no one else could.

 

“Yeah, okay. Where do you want to go?” Harry asked.

 

Harry waited for Malfoy to pack his things and then they headed to the Room of Requirement. Harry would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious, because they walked with at least a metre between them. Harry stopped when Malfoy stopped, and waited for the door to appear. When it did, Malfoy opened the door and entered. Harry followed him into the room, not quite sure what he was expecting to see. When he walked in, he was surprised.

 

The room had a neat four-poster bed. Beside the bed was a wardrobe, and a desk. Covering the wall the entrance was on, was a huge bookshelf, and Harry could see that most of the titles had something to do with fading and invisibility.

 

“What’s all this? Do you _live_ here Malfoy?”

 

“I haven’t been able to stay at the Slytherin dorm anymore as the portrait can’t see me, either. Plus I wouldn’t have known the password after they changed it. I just stalked the portrait for a while to sneak in and get all my stuff, and then I moved to the Room of Requirement. I’ve been staying here for the last two weeks. We can talk uninterrupted here,” Malfoy said, sounding almost distant.

 

There was also what must be the bathroom door in the other corner. Then there was another door, that seemed to lead down.

 

“What’s that door for?” Harry asked.

 

“It leads down to the kitchens. I guess it’s there because I don’t really like going to the Great Hall and being reminded of the fact that no one can see me. So I just go down to the kitchen and they give me food. I guess the house-elves aren’t affected by this strange magic. When I asked, one of them said they weren’t as petty as wizards. I have no idea what that was supposed to mean, but I guess it doesn’t matter,” Malfoy answered.  “Anyway, did you want to know what happened?”

 

“Yeah, you just faded?” Harry asked, perplexed. He watched Malfoy sit down on an armchair and then gesture for Harry to sit in the other one. It didn’t seem to belong there like all the other things, and Harry guessed Malfoy had added it when he entered the room just before Harry. The room must have only provided Malfoy with furniture for one, as he had no plans to invite anyone.

 

“I don’t think it was that simple, Potter. People didn’t like my return to Hogwarts, that much was clear from the start. I knew that would most likely be the case before I came, but I thought they’d be as sick of the hate and fighting as I was. They weren’t. I was beaten on the train, and it didn’t get much better when school started. Your friends, Weasley and some other blokes, did nothing but make my first days hell.

 

”When someone Body-Bound me during dinner one time, I just snapped. I was in my dorm afterwards, writing, and I just yelled: ‘I just want to disappear.’ Right then, I felt this strange magic surround me. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I think it’s the castle’s own magic. We all know the castle is powerful. I think that by wishing so deeply that I’d just disappear, the castle helped me do exactly that.

 

”The next day, I was walking to the library and I wished I could disappear while groups of students passed me. I felt the magic surround me again, and they didn’t see me. When I looked down, I saw straight through myself. It was freaky.” Malfoy stopped, curling up further in the chair, obviously doing so out of habit. Harry was sure that Malfoy would never have done so in front of him before, but the other man seemed to have forgotten how to really act in public.

 

“Then, when I got to the library, I was so relieved that Madam Pince could see me. But now I realize that she must’ve been able to only because I didn’t wish it otherwise. I talked to her, asking for her help to find a book that would explain it all, but then Granger came and yelled something at me. After I snapped something back, I wished they couldn’t hear me. I think that by that point, the castle’s magic was so tapped into me; into making me fade, that it didn’t matter anymore whether _I_ wished something or someone around me wished something. So even after I realised I didn’t really want to fade, it just tapped into everybody else’s wishes,” Malfoy finished.

 

Harry was overloaded with information and anger. He was angry at the professors for doing nothing about all that bullying and at Hermione and Ron for being so bigoted. Hermione was always talking about justice, and then she went and laughed at Malfoy’s request for help. Ron had whined all through their earlier years at Hogwarts about what a git Malfoy was, and now he was acting exactly like that, or even worse. Harry was also angry at himself for not noticing something was wrong earlier. If he’d known that Ron was being so rude and doing such horrible things, he would’ve said something... _done_ something. 

 

“I’m sorry, Malfoy. I can’t believe I didn’t notice all of that,” Harry said, and even he himself could hear the guilt leak through his voice.

 

“It’s not your fault, Potter, it isn’t like you control those bastards. Just because you’re the hero of the wizarding world, doesn’t mean you’re responsible for it,” Malfoy answered, sounding resolute, like he’d thought about the whole thing over and over. “Why don’t you go back to your friends now, so they don’t come looking for you.” Malfoy said, sounding a bit bitter. Of course he sounded bitter; Malfoy was used to having a pack of friends, full of people who wanted to be him, or wanted his money. People who cared about where he was; who would’ve noticed he was missing. .

 

“I think I have to actually,” Harry replied, almost feeling sad about leaving Malfoy. What a strange thought; him being sad about leaving Malfoy, his childhood enemy. “Before I go, do you want me to share this information, and get help from my friends and teachers or do you want to keep this from them? Just try to find the solution ourselves?” Harry asked, knowing Malfoy would probably choose not to tell anyone, and honestly, Harry could understand it after how everyone had treated him.

 

“I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it to yourself, Potter. Since they don’t care, I don’t want to bother them,” Malfoy said, with underlying anger. Harry didn’t press the matter.

 

“Well, thanks for sharing this with me, although, maybe you didn’t have much choice since I can see you. I’ll talk to you later, and help you find out how we can fix this?” Harry asked, still not sure if Malfoy could stand him long enough to let him help.

 

“Of course,” Malfoy mumbled, waving Harry to the door. Harry could see the moment of sharing had passed, for now at least.

 

*******

 

As Harry walked back to the Room of Requirement the next morning, he thought of his friends. He wasn’t really sure how he felt about them right now. Harry had gone straight to dinner after his talk with Malfoy and then gone to bed. He didn’t really want to talk to Ron and Hermione and have to lie to them about Malfoy. Harry was still unsure whether he wanted to yell at them for treating Malfoy like that, or not.

 

Harry walked by the wall three times, thinking of Malfoy, and then opened the door when it appeared. He didn’t think of knocking, so used to just waltzing into the room. Harry realised his mistake as he looked around, finding that Malfoy wasn’t there. Instead of going to look for him, Harry’s curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to look around. His eyes found the desk, and the drawers there.

 

Sitting in the desk chair, Harry found himself opening the top drawer. Inside, he found ink and parchment. He also found a number of written notes. On a closer look, Harry realised they were unsent letters. Also, they were from Malfoy, to Pansy Parkinson. As Harry reached down for them, he looked around. He then remembered that Malfoy had said they’d meet later in the day. So technically, Harry was trespassing, but he didn’t want to think of that now. He was just curious, although slightly guilty. He wanted to know what Malfoy could possibly have to say in letters to Parkinson.

 

The first one was one of the longest, and it made Harry want to protect the git that wrote them. After the next two, he didn’t even think Malfoy was a git anymore. He had gone through a lot, like all of them had, during the War. The thing that was different for Malfoy, comparing him with other students, was that the injustice didn’t stop after the War. It continued, got worse in a way, and all at the hands of the “good” side. Harry felt disgusted at himself, his friends and his allies.

 

Harry looked around nervously, feeling like a peeping Tom as he re-read the first letter. He could hardly believe what he was reading at first, but it _was_ Malfoy’s handwriting and this would be excuse enough to want someone to go invisible.

 

_\-----Then when I was going to hide in a bathroom while everyone else got off the train, I ran into a bunch of eighth year boys; Weasley and some of his friends. They talked some shit and then walked all over me--literally! Can you believe it?_

_I needed to go to the hospital wing after my first class today. Madam Pomfrey said I had internal injuries or something like that. She healed me of course, and then sent me back to my dorm, which is empty and leaves me feeling lonely. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this_ alone, _Pansy. I miss you and Blaise, I miss Crabbe and Goyle. I’m guessing this won’t be the only note I’ll write to you because I’m sure I’ll just get more and more frustrated with each day.------_

 

Harry re-read two paragraphs from the first letter. To think that Ron had done that... Harry knew Ron was extremely angry at everything related to the War, but so was everybody else. Ron shouldn’t take it out on Malfoy. _Argh! This is making me annoyed at my friends. And making me like Malfoy._

 

Harry read a couple of the other letters, each laced with so much depression, Harry was genuinely surprised to know Malfoy was still alive. He wasn’t sure if he could’ve gone through that after the War was over; thinking everything would be looking up again, and finding himself so wrong. Harry was surprised at the strength in character that showed for Malfoy.

It was strange how those letters, and their conversation the day before, had almost entirely changed Harry’s opinion of the other man. Harry suddenly felt the need to go flying to clear his head. He put the neatly-written letters back into the old-fashioned drawer.

 

Harry was happy his broom was down in the locker rooms, so all he had to do was run downstairs, make a quick trip in there and he was in the sky. It felt so good, so freeing, to be flying. Harry felt all his emotions sort themselves out, and it felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of him.

 

Harry wanted to get to know the person that wrote those letters. He wanted to see if he could reach that person and make him see how great he could be. The feeling of knowing; being sure about all this, was unbelievable. Harry slowed down as he flew, realizing that his insides were excited again, after months of calm. How sick was it-- that Harry got a thrill out of helping things, that his whole being seemed somewhat stilted before when he had no purpose. Now, with Malfoy, he had that purpose, a job-- someone to rescue. It was almost as if this was Harry’s point of living. Hermione was right-- he had a “saving people thing”.

 

_No, it’s more than that,_ Harry thought. _It’s not about me. It has to be about him. I can’t let him get hurt again. Especially not by my own friends_.

 

With that state of mind, Harry flew over the grounds. Then, he spotted a lone figure near the lake. Harry’s eyes narrowed to the sight of shocking blond hair and a lean figure underneath a dark robe, with an elegant walk. Malfoy. Of course it was him-- and he was sulking over something. Harry knew that Malfoy wasn’t going to be all sunshine happy, but he couldn’t stand the sulking, especially after Harry’s recent revelation.

 

When he had landed Harry walked right up to Malfoy and started yelling. “What are you doing here sulking, Malfoy? You think you’ll become visible with that attitude?”

 

Malfoy seemed to be startled by Harry’s sudden appearance, closing the notebook he was writing in. For a moment Harry wondered if Malfoy had been writing another letter. He quickly put the thought to the back of his mind, Harry wanted to _make_ Malfoy see that things could get better.

 

“What are you yelling about Potter?! Do you think people are just going to let it slide if the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice starts yelling at thin air?”

 

Harry realized suddenly that people _would_ notice that he was yelling at nothing, so he calmed himself down, taking a deep breath. He began walking and was surprised when Malfoy trailed behind him slowly.

 

“Why are you walking out here?” _Alone_ , Harry wanted to say, but of course he was alone. Malfoy couldn’t have any friends here, and Harry shuddered to think how that would feel. No friends, nothing. Harry felt a deep part of him ache to give Malfoy friendship-- to give that lonely boy from the letters someone to talk to. _He’s still Malfoy,_ the annoying voice in his brain said to him. _But he’s different now-- I can tell._ The war of thoughts clouded his mind until Malfoy spoke up again.

 

“I was just taking a breather from the heavy atmosphere in castle. It can get a bit … hard to stay in there; either closed in the Room of Requirement, where I’m all alone, or somewhere else, where there are all these people... but they can’t see me,” Malfoy said, keeping his voice low, even though no one but Harry could hear him. Just before Harry started to reply, Malfoy added: “The hard part is knowing that they can’t see me, or hear me, because they really don’t want to.”

 

Harry’s heart fell a bit at that last statement, and he couldn’t believe how bad he felt for Malfoy, of all people. “Malfoy... Draco,” Harry said slowly, trying to appease the man. Draco looked up in surprise, but Harry continued. “Look, I’m not going to try and pretend to understand your sadness. It must be so hard for you here, without friends... but, I’m willing to help you as much as I can. More than willing actually. Would you, er, mind... do you want to be friends... with me?”

 

Harry stopped and held out his hand, his breathing halting for a moment. Draco looked a bit hesitant at first, but then shook his head, lightly taking Harry’s hand to shake it.

 

“I guess I’m short on those right now. I might as well choose the Saviour of the wizarding world as a friend as well as the next guy,” Draco said on lighter tones. He even laughed a bit, surprising Harry.

 

Harry felt relief at his words and he smiled slightly. “Okay,” he said, walking forward again. “I have an idea. Obviously all the books from the library aren’t working out to help you find a cure for this... thing? So why don’t we ask someone who will have a lot of information on the castle’s magic?”

 

“Whom did you have in mind... Harry?” Draco said, halting at Harry’s first name, but he didn’t seem to mind it.

 

Harry realised that he liked Draco saying his first name. He also liked saying “Draco”. Shaking his head, Harry led them to a secluded place on the grounds, where no one would see Harry talking to the air, and answered Draco.

 

“I was thinking something like Dumbledore’s portrait at the Headmistress office, or a house-elf. Someone who knows the castle, knows the history of it, and may have the knowledge of how to fix this.”

 

“That sounds like a good idea, I think Dumbledore actually might have knowledge that could help us here,” Draco answered, before he gestured for Harry to follow him back into the castle.

 

“Albus,” Harry said as they stopped in front the gargoyle. Draco looked at him in surprise, silently asking how he knew the password.

 

“McGonagall thought it would be a nice tribute. I don’t think she’s going to change it this year. She really looked up to Dumbledore, as everybody else in this school did,” Harry said, trying to make reference to that night in the Astronomy Tower, when Dumbledore had died. He wanted to get it across that he knew Draco had looked up to, and respected Dumbledore.

 

Draco only nodded and they walked up the stairs. Harry knocked on the door, waiting for McGonagall to answer. The door opened with a flick of a wand from the inside and Harry and Draco walked in.

 

“Oh, Mr. Potter, what can I do for you today?” McGonagall asked, her lips pursed, as if she was remembering their last talk. Harry gulped, thinking that maybe she wouldn’t let him talk to the portrait alone now.

 

“I was wondering if I could talk to the portrait of Professor Dumbledore, and maybe even Professor Snape’s, too.” At this, both McGonagall and Draco looked at Harry as if he had announced that he was going to bring back Voldemort himself. Draco, of course, had never agreed to talk to Snape, and McGonagall was probably wondering why the hell he wanted to talk to her two predecessors as Head of Hogwarts.

 

“Can you tell me why, Mr. Potter?” McGonagall answered, sounding offended again. Why was it that Harry couldn’t have a decent conversation with the woman without ending up offending her or something?

 

“I’m sorry, Headmistress McGonagall, I’m afraid it’s just none of your business, so to speak.” This was getting too similar to his conversations with her about the Horcruxes. Harry quickly added, “It’s nothing bad really, I was just wondering about something that they could help me with, er, if it’s okay with you?”

 

Draco actually snickered. Harry wanted to glare at him, but that would make McGonagall question his sanity. McGonagall actually smiled a bit at him.

 

“That should be okay, Mr. Potter. I was just heading downstairs to the teacher’s office anyway. Take your time, but lock the door on your way out. I’m trusting you not to do anything stupid up here, Potter,” she said, looking stern, but amused.

 

“Thank you, Professor,” Harry replied. After she left, he looked at Draco and hit him mockingly.

 

“What was that for?” Draco asked, rubbing his arm at the spot Harry hit him.

 

“You laughed at me,” Harry answered.

 

“It was funny watching you attempt to do some damage control there,” Draco drawled. Harry sighed; the snark was back.

 

“Were you two going to ask Dumbledore and I something or just talk amongst yourselves?” Snape asked, sounding angry, but still calmer than when he was actually alive.

 

“Now Severus, why did you interrupt them? They’ve clearly just managed to become friends, although I’d say it’s about time,” Dumbledore’s portrait said, seeming almost gleeful. “What seems to be the problem for you two?”

 

Harry and Draco had quickly stopped their banter and were now solemnly looking at the two portraits.

 

“You two can see me?” Draco said surprised.

 

“Of course, boy, we’re not affected by the castle’s magic; we’re a part of the castle,” Snape barked at them.

 

“Do you know of my problem, then? What caused it?” Draco said, talking so fast that it caused Harry to laugh. Draco kicked his right foot in the general direction of Harry, but missed.

 

“Stop laughing, you fool.”

 

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy, we know all about your situation, and I think you know as well as we do what caused it. You couldn’t take the abuse anymore, so the castle saved you,” Dumbledore said, in an amused voice.

 

“Why can you two see Draco when his dorm portrait couldn’t?” Harry asked, flexing his fingers repeatedly because he felt weird talking to his former professors.

 

“As Severus said, we’re a part of the castle’s magic, because we both died on the grounds. We were alive once, dedicating our life to the castle and both of us have helped maintain it so we’re much more connected to it than the rest of the portraits,” Dumbledore explained.

 

“Alright, I really don’t care about that, what can we do to fix this?!” Draco almost yelled. Harry could see how tense he was, his jaw locked, he looked almost like a predator meeting something it wasn’t sure it could handle.

 

“Draco, calm down. I’m sorry to say, that no simple spell or potion can fix this. There is a possibility I can come up with a complicated potion, with many ingredients that are hard to reach, if you give me a day,” Snape said, looking sad.

 

“So, what you’re saying is, it will take a lot of time?” Harry asked, feeling just as sad.

 

“Yes, Potter, it’s going to take a long while, and even more effort than the Polyjuice Potion you and your friends brewed in your second year,” Snape answered.

 

“There might be another cure, a simpler one, which counteracts the castle’s saving, but we’re not sure what would have to happen. It’s a thing that won’t be solved with a spell,” Dumbledore added.

 

Draco looked hopeless as he nodded dimly, and stepped out of the room.

 

“Do you want us to come back tomorrow to get the recipe for the potion, Professor Snape?” Harry asked, although he wanted nothing more than to run after Draco.

 

“Yes, just come by after classes tomorrow, I should have it done by then,” Snape answered.

 

Harry didn’t wait for permission to leave, he simply ran down the stairs. He could see Draco at the end of the hall, and he quickened his pace to catch him.

 

“Draco, wait, stop,” Harry said as he reached Draco.

 

“What? You heard them, it’s going to take so much work and time, you won’t spend all this time trying to help _me._ I know it. So, you don’t have to feel bad about it,” Draco said, sounding hurt.

 

“I thought we became friends earlier? I’m going to help you do whatever it takes for you to become visible again,” Harry said, stopping Draco and pulling him into a deserted classroom.

 

“But before we try anything,” Harry said slowly, continuing. “I want you to tell me that you _want_ to find the cure for this. I know you’re lonely and you don’t want this, but maybe deep down you might be, er, a bit.... scared of, or you know, not scared, but would like to avoid confrontation with the other students as well as the professors,” Harry added, trying not to bruise the other man’s pride too much. This brand-new friendship wouldn’t last long if Harry didn’t watch his mouth. _In more ways than one_ , Harry thought.

 

“Of course I’m scared of having to talk to those barbarians again. They beat me. If I _hadn’t_ disappeared, I’m sure they’d have ended up injuring me much more. I had to go to the hospital wing, because they broke something as they walked over me, and that was just after the train ride. I wouldn’t have liked to get to know how imaginative they can be,” Draco said. Harry could see the muscles in his jaw jump in anger. “However, I’m not stupid. I get that you’re the sort of person that won’t let his friends get run over like that. I actually have seen that when I was hassling both Granger and Weasley. I think, that if we don’t start hating each other again, I might just trust you enough to help me get through to everybody else,” Draco said, looking up at the clear sky. His tone was casual, as if he hadn’t just said he trusted Harry.

 

“I’ve never thought about it really, I just don’t want to see those I care about being hurt. I actually don’t like _anyone_ being hurt,” Harry replied, before looking down, trying to brace himself for the snarky comment that would surely follow. Instead, Harry found Draco much closer when he finally looked up.

 

Stroking a tendril of Harry’s hair away from his eyes, Draco whispered, “So, that means you care about me?”

 

Feeling a bit awkward at the closeness, but not willing to step away, Harry choked out, “Yeah, I guess so. I think you’re a much better person than anyone gives you credit for.”

 

Before Harry could say ‘Quidditch’, Draco’s lips were on his. It felt like his whole body was on fire. Not painful fire, but the warm, lovely, just-right fire. They deepened the tender kiss after a few seconds, and Harry felt Draco loosen up, like he had been expecting Harry to push him away.

 

Draco was the one who broke the kiss, staying close still. “Could’ve just said yes, Potter,” Draco said, sounding breathless.

 

“Potter? I thought we had moved to first name basis, _Draco_ ,” Harry replied, laughing.

 

“I just thought it sounded more appropriate, but I like it when you say my name. Maybe I can get you to moan it as well?” Draco said, sending a shiver down Harry’s spine.

 

“Maybe so, but how about we go have dinner? We can sit somewhere secluded, where people won’t notice, so they won’t think I’m insane,” Harry said, laughing a little.

 

“Why would you care? It’d be nothing compared to fifth and sixth year, when everyone thought you were lying,” Draco answered, joining in on Harry’s laughter, making Harry’s body fill up with warmth.

 

“Well, er, I don’t really _want_ to repeat that. Let’s just go,” Harry said, when he had recovered enough to speak. Before they left the classroom though, Harry pulled up his Gryffindor bravery and leaned back to Draco and kissed him.

 

As they walked to the Great Hall, they stayed close together. However, when they entered the Hall, Harry heard Ron shout. _Well there goes being unnoticed,_ Harry thought.

 

“Harry? Mate, what are you doing with that git?” Harry looked at Ron in surprise. Ron could see Draco. With a quick look around, he confirmed that every single person in the Great Hall could see Draco. Harry could feel Draco tense beside him, clearly wanting nothing more than to run and hide.

 

“Oh, Ron, shut it, will you, you’re more of a git then he is these days,” Harry yelled back.

 

He couldn’t _believe_ Ron. After reading those letters, and witnessing Ron actively taunting Draco and talking bad about him, Harry wasn’t sure he could forgive him or stay friends with him. Especially since Draco was his ... boyfriend now? Or at least he was on his way to be, if Harry had anything to do with it.

 

_Wow, this was just too much at once._ Harry wasn’t sure he could handle talking with everyone right now, but he sort of had to, to save Draco from having to deal with it all. Harry had promised he would stay with him during all this and he would not leave him now.

 

“What? Harry, has he brainwashed you or something? Put you under Imperius? I’ll--” Ron yelled.

 

Harry could see that McGonagall was rising from her chair, frowning, and Hermione was saying something Harry simply couldn’t hear in the chaos. All that could fit in his mind right at that moment, was Ron, who was now heading towards Draco and Harry, in a fast stride. He had his wand raised, like he was going to hex Draco, and Harry acted on pure adrenaline and instinct. He cast a Protego Charm around Draco before disarming Ron. In his act of protection, he had also managed to step in front of Draco, standing there like a shield.

 

“Harry, I can take care of myself, thank you,” Draco said behind him, sounding both amused and pissed off.

 

Determined not to get in a fight with Draco right there, Harry answered, “I know, Draco, I just thought I’d help a little. You know, because you might be a little out of practice, what with being invisible for about a month.” He talked loud enough for Ron to hear him, hoping Ron and other onlookers would understand that Draco had been ‘missing’.

 

“Mr. Potter, what in Merlin’s name is going on here?” McGonagall asked, Hermione fast on her heels.

 

“Ron was going to hex Draco, so I disarmed him, and threw a Protego Charm over Draco. I was just about to figure out how to assure Ron that I am not under the Imperius curse nor has Draco brainwashed me,” Harry answered the Professor, although the sentence was ridiculous. Ron’s angry comment was probably going to be a joke for years.

 

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that Mr. Malfoy has done neither of those things, don’t you think Ms. Granger?” McGonagall said.

 

“Mmmm.... I don’t think Harry would be very responsive to that kind of treatment. As far as I know, he has developed a technique that stops him from acting under the Imperius curse.” Hermione answered, looking a bit more than a little amused.

 

McGonagall on the other hand, seemed to have realised where she was, and how many people were listening in. “Will you four please follow me to my office, _now_?” She asked, although it was not really a question, but rather an order.

 

Harry refused to drop the shield he had cast around Draco, but the four of them moved after Professor McGonagall. Ron was walking a bit ahead of the other three, clearly not happy about all of this, but Hermione was walking beside Harry.

 

Without turning to face her, Harry said, his voice hard, “Don’t think that just because you don’t think Draco brainwashed me, you’re off the hook.”

 

Harry felt Draco tense beside him. It suddenly dawned on Harry that he had just excluded his two best friends, all for Draco’s sake. Harry assumed that that would be a little hard to digest for Draco. Harry reached into the little space between them, and took Draco’s hand, and squeezed it tightly. It felt so good to _touch_ Draco like that. It felt intimate, like he could communicate with Draco with only a touch.

 

“Albus,” McGonagall said, as they stood in front of the gargoyle.

 

Harry felt a twinge of relief when Ron and Hermione walked ahead of Draco and him, and then he felt guilty for feeling the relief. He shouldn’t have to watch his back from his very best friends, but he felt as if he did need to, considering what he had read in Draco’s letters.

 

“So, Mr. Potter, I’d imagine you have something to say. I thought this would be a better place for this conversation than the middle of the Great Hall,” McGonagall said, sitting in her own chair, behind the desk, conjuring a couple of extra chairs for the four of them.

 

“Thank you Professor,” Harry said, before turning to Draco. “Can I tell them all of it? Or you know, the facts of it?”

 

“Potter, you didn’t ask earlier, why are you asking now?” Draco said, his voice growing cold. All the intimacy had evaporated, seemingly because Draco had just remembered Harry’s slip back in the Great Hall. He was even back to calling him Potter. Harry felt awful.

 

“I’m sorry Draco, I know I promised not to tell anyone, but that was before you were visible to them as well. Forgive me?” Harry asked with half a smile, hoping to thaw Draco’s heart. _Note to self,_ Harry thought _. Learn how to apologise to Draco._ He supposed he’d need it for future reference when he made Draco angry with something stupid he was bound to do.

 

“Not yet, but we’ll sort this out later. Now, tell your ‘friends’ the _facts_ about what has happened.”

 

Sighing, Harry decided to give up trying to apologise to Draco. He instead turned to his so-called friends.

 

“Although I have found that none of you _care_ , Draco has been invisible for about three months, since the day that Hermione saw him in the library in the first week of December. The castle’s magic made him fade into the school and lose his voice. It did so because Draco was not safe in the castle. I started seeing him, and we have no idea why I could see him, when no one else could. I think he’s visible now, because he’s safe. No thanks to you three though,” Harry said, absolutely fuming over how true all that was. He could only guess to why Draco was visible, but Harry would bet his wand on it being that after their kiss, the other man had just _felt_ and believed that he was safe now. That Harry would protect him.

 

“Now, Mr. Potter, I don’t think you can blame this on us--” McGonagall began, but even she looked a bit guilty.

 

“Can’t blame this on you? You’re the Headmistress of Hogwarts and you didn’t notice that one of your students was missing. You didn’t help him when they were hexing him all over school. How can I help but blame this on you, Professor?” Harry yelled.

 

“Harry, what are you doing yelling at us over this? I, for one, didn’t do anything harmful to Malfoy,” Hermione said, trying to reason with Harry.

 

Harry was about to yell back at her, but Draco beat him to it.

 

“Maybe you didn’t personally hurt me, Granger, but you made me lose my voice. That day at the library, I was looking for help. I knew I was disappearing and I needed to stop it. After our talk, my voice was gone too.” Draco was heaving in air, and it was clear that he hadn’t used his voice much lately.

 

“You didn’t do anything Hermione, and I’m afraid that’s the problem. You want to protect House Elves’ rights, and basically everyone else’s rights, but you couldn’t even dream of it when it came to Draco,” Harry added, too angry to care about how loud he was yelling.

 

“Mate, what are you shouting at her for? And since when is Malfoy ‘Draco’ to you?” Ron butted in, yelling as well.

 

“Since we became friends, you bloody blind Gryffindor. You’re very lucky that I think hexing you is a waste of good magic. If I didn’t I’d have hexed you back to birth by now. I might have held my tongue before, but I’m done playing that part. It didn’t work either way. I just hope you and your buffoon friends have matured and will not try something after this. Because now, I’ll fight back, full force,” Draco yelled at Ron, who stood there, surprised at the fire behind Draco’s words. Harry knew that these were words that had been boiling for two months and now, finally, Draco could let them out.

 

When Draco had caught his breath again, after the yelling, he turned to Harry. Harry could feel the grey eyes bore into his green ones, saying so much more than words ever could. Draco broke the gaze after a bit, turned on his heel, and walked out of the office.

 

Silence stretched out before the four people left, until Harry spoke up, “I hope you have all realised what’s happened here, what we have all allowed to happen within these school walls, _after_ the war, after Voldemort, with no Ministry to blame, just us. I think all of us have said that nothing bad should even happen here again.”

 

Hermione was quietly sobbing now, and Harry hoped that meant she had seen how wrong she had been. He wanted to stay friends with her, and even Ron too, but he wouldn’t forgive easily this time.

 

Since he had closed the conversation, he turned to follow Draco. Again, he was running after the other man, wanting to comfort him. He couldn’t even imagine how this impacted Draco.

 

Finally, now outside, in the grounds, Harry could see Draco. He sat, resting his back against a beautiful tree. The trunk was thick and allowed Harry space to sit beside Draco. Draco was staring off to another world, his mind far away. He didn’t look at Harry.

 

“Draco,” Harry started, but he wasn’t sure where to begin. “What are we now?” he ended up asking quietly. So quietly that he wasn’t sure Draco had heard him.

 

“I know I want to be more than your friend, Harry,” Draco answered, still staring off into space. His voice sounded far away too.

 

“I want you, Draco. I want you as more than my friend. I want you as my … er ... boyfriend?“ Harry said, stumbling with his words.

 

Now Draco had turned to him, he took Harry’s hands, moving closer.

 

“I think I’d like something more mature, Harry. Something eloquent, like... lovers? Or partners?”

Draco said, before leaning over and kissing Harry.

 

They sat there, in the shadows, in each other arms, not saying anything, just kissing tenderly.

 

“Draco,” Harry started again, after they’d sat there for about an hour. He didn’t want to spoil the moment, but also knew they had to talk about this. “I, er, want to apologise for telling them about you being invisible. I should’ve thought about it before I yelled it at Ron. I knew you didn’t want them to know, but I just, I was _so_ angry. I mean, after all those things he did. I think he was worse than you were in our younger years. Of course, you stamped hard on my face when I was Body-Bound in sixth year, but you were, er, you were stressed out by Voldemort’s orders. Ron doesn’t have that excuse. He either walked over you, or watched someone else do it,” Harry said, stopping at odd places, because he wasn’t really sure Draco would agree, or forgive him.

 

When he looked at Draco he didn’t see anger, but suspicion and confusion.

 

“Wait, I didn’t tell you that Weasley was there when that barbarian walked over me,” Draco stated, drawing away from Harry’s embrace a little, to look at his face.

 

Harry gulped visibly, trying to find words that wouldn’t make the other man mad as hell. “I, er, I sort of looked at your letters. I’m _really_ , really sorry, Draco. I didn’t mean to, I just, I went to the Room of Requirement, and you weren’t there, so I started looking through your room, ah, I can’t really say anything to justify it. I just, I read your letters.” Harry finished lamely, just giving up. He had been in the wrong when looking at those letters.

 

Draco was now off Harry completely, he actually didn’t touch him anywhere. Harry could see him crouching on the ground beside him, shaking.

 

“You-- you read my letters? _My_ letters to _Pansy?_ ” Draco said, incredulous.

 

“Well, er, yes,” Harry answered, not sure what to say, really.

 

Draco just gaped at him. “You read those,” he stated, after a few minutes of just plain staring at Harry. “You read them all? How did you-- Where-- When did you find them?”

 

“I read them yesterday. Wow, this has all happened so fast. I’m so sorry, I just, I became so engrossed in your sincerity in those letters. It was like … I got to know you, all of you, not just the cocky part, or the cool part. I got to see how this affected you, how strong you were through it all,” Harry said, trying to get through to Draco, to make him understand that Harry just respected him more after reading the letters, not less.

 

“You invaded my privacy. You went to my room, looked in my drawers, and read my personal letters. You read them, without my permission, without even knowing what they were until you started reading. Then, when you clearly saw they were personal and _not_ meant for you, you didn’t stop. Am I getting this right?” Draco yelled.

 

Harry sighed, giving up on defending himself, because he knew he had been in the wrong. “You are. I did all those things, and honestly, I’m glad. I saw what kind of person you are through those letters, Draco,” Harry said, trying to look him in the eyes, but the other man wasn’t having it; he was glaring off, over Harry’s shoulder. “It made me realise I wanted to get to know you. It helped me understand that I care about you, that I like and respect you. It got me to wake up and see that I want to protect you, to help you,” Harry added, trying to get a response from Draco.

 

“Those letters made you respect me?” Draco asked, surprised, and maybe a bit …offended.

 

“Yes. You have to realise, I didn’t really respect you before the War, Draco. You were a complete git, and I didn’t even think any further. Even after the War, I didn’t give it another thought. I just left you out of my world; you weren’t my concern. And you left me alone, so I could just leave it at that. However after I read those letters, I could see how much you leave guarded, when you talk to me. I mean, er, you display things now that you didn’t before, but those letters made it click for me,” Harry said, trying desperately to fix this. He didn’t like fighting with Draco now that they’d become … partners, like Draco put it. Harry couldn’t dream of what it’d be like to fight like this if they stayed together like he was hoping for at this point. He’d probably end up insane, especially if he didn’t find a way to stop it, the fight.

 

“I understand that you’re sorry, and that maybe it was good, for … us, that you read them, but I’m still hurt. Since you invaded my privacy like that, I can’t really believe you care about me at all. I think, we should just, go to our respective rooms now, and talk tomorrow,” Draco said, still not looking at Harry.

 

“Oh, don’t you want to stop by the kitchens to get something to eat, though?” Harry asked, wanting more time with Draco.

 

“No, thank you, I’m not hungry anymore,” Draco answered, putting an end to any further conversation, although, because his manners didn’t seem to have suffered in the War, he added, in a strained polite voice, “Goodnight, Harry.”

 

Harry watched him walk away, and he could see the tense line of his shoulders. He sighed.

_Wow,_ Harry thought. _I’ve_ hurt _him. Maybe, I’ve ruined it all?_ He felt guilty, and sad about having to leave Draco. He wanted to spend more time with him, to make everything good again. However, he wasn’t clueless enough to think that would be easy. Harry walked further out on the grounds, away from the tree, his shoulders slumped in defeat. How could Draco think he didn’t care about him?! Caring for Draco was all he could _think_ about! It made him slightly angry, but he knew the anger was mostly for himself. He’d really have to show Draco how much he _did_ care.

 

*******

 

“Harry,” Ron called as Harry entered the Gryffindor common room. It was late now, about midnight, because Harry had gone walking after Draco left, trying to think of a way to get Draco to forgive him. He had gone down to the kitchens and grabbed a bite to eat as well. However, whatever he did, Harry couldn’t shake the feeling of loss, although it was irrational. He hadn’t lost Draco, not yet at least. 

 

“Ron? I don’t really feel like arguing more tonight,” Harry started. He was surprised to see Ron looking more remorseful, not angry like he expected.

 

“I don’t want to fight, Harry. I do that enough with Hermione,” Ron said, laughing a little, but it came across forced, like he was only trying to make a joke to lighten the mood, but didn’t really believe it could. “I want to, you know, apologise. I know I’ve been a git, but I just, I guess I wanted to pay him back for all he did,” Ron said.

 

“Pay back? Really, Ron. The War is over, things are supposed to be good now. I know what you did on the train, when you didn’t even know if he’d changed since the war. I know that you’ve changed, I’ve changed, and Draco has as well,” Harry said, exasperated.

 

“I know. It’s unfair, I see that now. I’ve just been angry after the War, you know? With Fred, and all,” Ron said, sounding defeated.

 

“I know, Ron, but mate, you’ve got to apologise to Draco, not me. Merlin knows I’ll have enough to fight about with other people, I do not need to fight my closest friends too. However, I’m not sure you can face what I have to say next,” Harry said, realising that, although they were on the same page right now, Ron didn’t know Harry and Draco were more than friends. “You heard Draco say we were friends now? Well, it’s a bit more than that; we’re together. Like, you and Hermione. Although, maybe you don’t have to flip out, I’m not sure he’ll stay with me,” Harry said, feeling a bit heartbroken and guilty.

 

“What do you mean? If that ... if Malfoy has somehow managed to get you, he’s a fool if he’s going to let you go,” Ron said, looking awkward, but still, he sounded like he was telling the truth.

 

“So, you don’t mind me dating him?” Harry asked tentatively.

 

“No, I think I’ve been horrible enough this year. I mean, it wouldn’t be my first choice for you or anything, but if you’re happy with him, and he doesn’t do anything to hurt you, I can’t very well go meddling,” Ron said, and Harry started laughing.

 

With all the tension from the past few days, he just cracked then. The sudden change in Ron’s attitude, like he had to see Harry being friends with Draco, and defending Draco from Ron, to grow up and mature into an adult. Harry could only think, _if Hermione had known this, she’d have made it happen years ago._

 

**********---------*********

 

Draco was hurt. He felt betrayed and maybe even a bit heart-broken. He cursed himself for allowing his old crush on Harry Potter to come back. Although, now, it was so much more than a crush, and it made it hurt that much more.

 

Harry had looked at his letters. Where he had poured all his insecurities and all his doubts. Draco’s pride was injured, but along with that, he didn’t really believe Harry could feel the same about him, as he felt about Harry.

 

However, Harry had looked so sad when Draco left him last night. Today was a new day, and Draco was going to see if Harry could prove he cared about him.

 

Draco was glad to feel his confidence build up now that he was visible. He did not plan on letting anyone walk over him like they had before, ever again. He could admit to the fact that Harry had helped him see that, but it didn’t mean everything the other man did was justifiable.

 

Still he was a bit curious as to what had made him visible again. He wondered if Professor McGonagall was going to allow him to ask the portrait of Dumbledore again. Then suddenly, he remembered where he was. He felt so stupid, he almost banged his head against something, before realising he was starting to think like a house-elf.

 

He thought hard about wanting Dumbledore’s portrait to be in the Room of Requirement, and, after a bit, it appeared.

 

“Professor, are you the same one that Harry and I talked to the other day? I mean, do you remember our talk? Because I was wondering, if you know how I became visible again,” Draco said, talking fast, although he knew it was rude.

 

“Slow down, Draco. Yes, I remember that day. You and Harry are more than friends now I take it? Oh, don’t look at me like that; I can clearly see these things. So, what were you two doing before you discovered you were visible?” Dumbledore answered, seeming unable to restrain himself from giggling.

 

“We were, er, we were kissing, Professor,” Draco started, planning on saying something more, but Dumbledore interrupted him.

 

“Yes, that would be the trick. Severus and I made a bet about it actually. About whether you’d come around and kiss each other before or after you became visible. I bet on before, he after. You see Severus is kind of unromantic, and I can’t say I blame him after what happened in his life. However, as we explained, the castle made you fade because you didn’t feel safe. Then, when Harry kissed you, or around that time, you realised that Harry would keep you safe from now on. It’s really as simple as that, my boy. If you’ll excuse me however; I believe the Fat Lady has asked me to brunch,” Dumbledore said, before disappearing from the frame.

 

Draco stood, dumbfounded, and feeling a bit happy. Because he realised that Dumbledore was right; he _had_ felt safe when Harry kissed him, and he shouldn’t question Harry’s motives when he had first seen Draco this year; he should focus on how Harry felt _now--_ What Harry said and did now.

 

*******

 

The Great Hall was full of whispers; that were a bit too loud to be whispers really, when Draco walked to the Slytherin table for breakfast.

 

Some fool in Gryffindor stood up and pointed his wand at Draco, just like he had done before Draco faded, probably thinking his toy was here again. However, Draco saw him, and raised his wand defiantly toward the boy. He was thinking of how to do this, what curse to shoot, when the Gryffindor collapsed in his seat. Draco looked around, finding Harry seated beside Weasley and Granger, with his wand raised, but he seemed surprised that the boy had collapsed, like he hadn’t shot the hex. Looking closer, Draco saw Weasley’s wand was raised as well, and he seemed to be gloating.

 

_Weasley hexed someone for me? What the bloody Hell?_ Draco thought. Lowering his wand, Weasley stood up.

 

“I know I didn’t stop anything before, and I did my fair share of hexing Malfoy, but anyone who tries it now, has a hex from me coming. I believe the War has been won, and I’m happy it’s over. I’m going to get to live in peace for the rest of my life. Thank you,” he said, speaking to the whole school-- Draco expected Granger had charmed his voice a bit louder as he started talking-- but before he sat down, he looked at Draco, straight into his eyes, and nodded solemnly. Draco knew, because he knew pride when he saw it, that that had been Weasley apologising, and with a nod back, he forgave him.

 

However, apparently, Weasley wasn’t the only one who needed to apologise. Draco gasped quietly as Harry stood up as well. Harry didn’t hide where he was going. He walked over to the Slytherin table, and then stopped beside Draco.

 

“Could I steal you away? To talk, in private?” he asked, looking a bit embarrassed, but intent on getting Draco away from the Great Hall and all the peering students.

 

“Why should I go with you?” Draco said, mostly just toying with Harry, because seeing him now, blushing a bit, he wanted nothing more than to grab him and snog him until Christmas. Or longer.

 

“Draco, please... please just come with me?” Harry said, sounding desperate, and even maybe on the verge of giving up. _Come with me..._ Draco thought, snickering out loud. That made Harry look at him strangely and he realised this probably wasn’t the time to have his mind in the gutter, they needed to _talk_.

 

“Okay, but just, stop looking so damn cute,” Draco said, standing up and walking ahead of Harry, out of the Great Hall. They walked until they came across the same empty classroom they had shared their first kiss in. Harry closed the door and locked it behind him then turned around and looked at Draco.

 

“I’m so sorry for disrespecting you in any way, Draco. I _really_ like you, and I can’t stand it when you’re mad at me. Just, please, forgive me. I want you, and right now, I would love to stop talking and just get to kiss you again, Draco. If you still don’t believe me, I’ll just follow you everywhere and smother you with romantic things, like flowers, chocolate or something girly like that. I’ll do anything!” Harry finished, but Draco had decided when he’d seen Harry’s wand raised at breakfast; he couldn’t stand being mad at him either.

 

So, of course, the obvious thing was left. Draco took the last few steps to get to Harry, and snogged him. It was better than the first time, because now, Harry relaxed in the kiss with so much trust, with so much relief, that Draco _knew_ Harry liked him.

 

*******

 

In the Christmas holiday, about a month later, Draco found himself in bed with his lover. They were in their apartment, in Diagon Alley, that Harry had bought for himself after the War, and now shared with Draco.

 

“Tell me again, did Dumbledore and Snape, _really_ bet on whether we’d kiss before or after you stopped being invisible?” Harry asked, battling the urge to laugh, although, he seemed to be losing.

 

“Yes, and I don’t need to tell you again. I feel best if I try not to remember that. Now, can we move on to the part where you give me that blow job you promised? Because, really Harry, you should know this by now...I don’t like being kept waiting,” Draco answered, feeling both restless, and more than a little playful. He loved his sex life with Harry, it was _almost_ better than the endless romantic dates they went on.

 


End file.
